


Cast Aside Your Mask

by SaraJaye



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Awkwardness, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Healing, M/M, Mentions of canon-typical violence and blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 09:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: A series of unconnected tales about two stoic, emotionally constipated dorks who love each other very much.





	Cast Aside Your Mask

They've routed the Risen, finally, but only a few of them aren't hurt. Brady's going to run himself ragged trying to fix everyone, and Gerome only learned so much from his father about mixing medicines before that fateful day. He's found a few herbs he recognizes, and ground them into a salve as best he could with a few rocks.

"It may sting," he finds himself warning the others. Cynthia yelps, Yarne cries, Kjelle's teeth press a dent into the heel of her hand, but it seems to do the job. He's just finished with Owain's arm when he feels someone press a cool, wet handkerchief to his face and jumps slightly.

"Laurent, why-"

"Your cheek," Laurent says. "Either you've foolishly neglected your own injuries to tend to us, or you didn't feel it when you were cut by that arrow." And Gerome vaguely remembers a stinging sensation against his face, but he'd ignored it, thinking it was just a bug or a bit of rubble striking him. But he feels it now, and he winces at both the pain and the cold on his skin.

"That's embarrassing."

"It happens to the best of us." Laurent pulls him aside, taking some of the salve. "Hold still, all right?" And Gerome bites his lip, keeping as still as stone, letting his friend work. He wishes they'd rationed their elixirs, vulneraries, and concoctions more carefully; they have precious few left, and there hasn't been a single shop for miles that hasn't been ransacked by Risen. There's no telling when or if they'll find one still standing anytime soon.

The stinging sensation only feels like it's lasted an eternity, thankfully. Laurent nods, satisfied, and withdraws his hand.

"There. Luckily, it's not a very deep cut. I suggest seeing Brady soon, however, after he's had a chance to rest."

"I will," Gerome says. Laurent opens his mouth only to close it a second later, instead stroking Gerome's uninjured cheek.

"You're not careless, so there's really no point in telling you not to let this happen again," he says. "Still...if you're ever injured again, please come to me." And before Gerome can blink, he feels lips press briefly against his cut cheek. He feels his face burn, and Laurent's is slightly red, too.

"Laurent, you..."

"The phrase, _kissing it better..._ obviously it's an old wives' tale, but..." Laurent bit his lip, turning his head to the side. "I hope I was not overstepping any boundaries, Gerome. I simply-"

"It's fine." He's really not sure how to feel, but he can't say he's bothered by it. His cheek _does_ feel better, but that's obviously from the salve. _Still..._ He can't pretend it didn't mean anything, simple as it was, not when Laurent is the closest person to him among their group and has been since they were children. Their mothers were friends, their fathers were brothers in arms, and Laurent _gets_ him.

_He's not hard on the eyes, either._

"I'd better check on Minerva," Gerome says, remembering the blow she took to her wing. "Thank you, Laurent."

"Mm." Laurent smiles. "Think nothing of it, my friend."

That night, Gerome barely staves off the temptation to kiss a sleeping Laurent on the forehead.


End file.
